Another one, for good measure. Yeah?

…

She kept peeking over her shoulder, at the couch - no, at the still form lying on the couch, under the blanket she usually liked to use to cuddle up with when watching one of her shows.

But now she had put it over him, her thief, to keep him warm while he slept the sleep of the exhausted.

Earlier, when he had taken a shower, she had quickly washed his clothes - the task so intimate that she has flushed - and afterward he had looked ready to keel over. His grateful smile when she had helped him over to the couch still lingered in her mind, and she caught herself smiling thinking about it now.

She was making dinner - a hearty chicken soup with the help of her instant pot (yay for domesticity and good housewife-dom!), constantly debating whether she should wake him up for that. He'd need sustenance. But he also needed rest.

Her phone vibrated before she had a chance to make a decision, and when she saw the caller-ID, she grimaced.

"Hey Caroline. If this is about the proje-"

"Bonnie Bennett, are you insane?!"

Pressing her lips together, Bonnie waited for her best friend to finish what was surely going to be a lecture, placing her phone on the counter while she continued chopping vegetables.

"Elena told me. Elena! Not you, mind you. She said you're housing a criminal now. Do you know how dangerous that is? What if he hurts you?! You're all alone and there's no one in your god-forsaken apartment complex that could come fast enough if he decided to… to… to take advantage of you! I mean, is it true that he tried stealing from you. Who does that?! In this time…"

"Care…"

"Don't 'Care' me with that tone, girl. You're crazy! I'll not allow you to make stupid decisions that might very well endanger your life. I'm coming over right now."

"No, you're not! Stop it, Caroline. I'm fine. He's out on the couch now, anyways."

"What about when he wakes back up? Bonnie, you don't know this man. All you know is that he is bad news. He didn't care for you when he tried to rob your food! Elena told me everything!"

"Did she also tell you that he got hurt and I was told to leave him out there when I called 911 for help? Did she tell you he'll need follow-up-treatment, but that he won't get any if I sent him back out into the streets now? He doesn't even have a friggin' coat!"

"Well…" Caroline's voice was suddenly a lot quieter. "That can be remedied. We'll find him something to wear. But Bonnie. He can't stay with you. Not overnight. You're a single woman, and he's… some random guy. In New York. During the virus-lockdown. Do I need to spell it out for you why that is not a good idea?"

"He's not gonna do anything to me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"He… aside from the whole thieving business, he is actually quite nice."

She could see and hear Caroline chuckle incredulously on the other end.

"Nice? Do you even hear yourself? Girl, I think this whole social distancing thing is finally getting to you after all… I'm coming over, no discussion."

"Uh uh. You can't."

"Oh ya? Like you can't invite a damn thief into your place?"

Ignoring the jab, Bonnie sighed, putting her chopping knife down as she leaned over, closer to the camera of her phone

"For all I know," she said, staring hard at the blonde girl on the other side. "He could very well have been exposed to the virus, Caroline… The last thing I want is for you to get infected. And before you say anything: I already got exposed to whatever he does or doesn't have as soon as he touched my stuff. Not bringing him up here wouldn't have made that much of a difference."

"Bonnie…"

Wiping her forehead with her upper arm, she sighed.

"It's okay, Care. I know this is a bit… unconventional, and I probably shouldn't have done it. But… I just couldn't have lived with letting someone -"

"A thief!"

"A person… die out there, and he would have died. Did Elena tell you that, too?"

Caroline looked down, slumping her shoulders.

"She did, yeah. - I'm just worried about you, Bonnie, okay?"

"I know…"

"But… of course you couldn't have left him to die. That wouldn't have been you at all. You… you do everything to save everyone. I just… please be careful, Bonnie?"

"I promise."

"And I'll check up on you again as soon as it's morning! And you're not allowed to be annoyed with me. And if anything is the matter - if he tries anything-"

"I'll call you, virus or not."

"Good. Love ya, girl. Bye!"

With that, they both ended the call, and Bonnie clutched the counter, closing her eyes for a moment. Caroline had a point, of course. What was she doing here? Maybe she should have taken her up on the offer after all, should have let her come over. At least that way she wouldn't have had to deal with this stranger in her home all by herself.

"I should go."

Whirling around, her heart doing a weird jolt, she saw Enzo stand in the doorway, with one arm holding his injured one close. Some color had returned to his face, but the smile was noticeably absent.

"What?" she said, scoffing. "You can't go now. We've been over this."

He sighed, lowering his head without quite letting her out of his view, and she couldn't look away either, suddenly acutely aware of her unruly curls in her face, her dirty hands, and her Grams' silly old apron around her waist.

"Your friend is right, love. You don't know me. I am bad news. And if I somehow managed to bring the virus into your home on top of everything else, I…"

For a moment, they both just stared at each other, neither of them moving. A weird prickle went down Bonnie's spine before she forced herself to stand up straight, and say something.

"Well, you can't go until we both know for sure. If you really are so concerned about that, you'll have to stay here for at least the next fourteen days so we can be sure you didn't bring the virus to my home and infect me - or," she added, "vice versa."

There. The corner of his mouth went up, just a little, but it transformed his face completely - and Bonnie had to look away, her body suddenly prickling in other places too. (What the hell, Bonnie Bennett?!)

"Good point," Enzo said, still not moving closer, as if he was trying to heed the six-feet-apart rule.

"Great." Bonnie dared a look in his direction. Gosh, he was so close. A man in her apartment… Clearing her throat, she pointed behind her, trying to focus on something other than him. "And now that we've settled that, I really need to finish this here - and you… need to lie back down."

"I'm better now. I can help." He looked around the kitchen, with a full-blown smile indicating the mess she had made. "I know my way around a kitchen, and it looks like you could use some… assistance."

Raising her eyebrows, she glared at him.

"I know my way around a kitchen, too."

He clicked his tongue, raising his good arm in mock-surrender.

"Is that why your celery and carrots look like someone butchered them?"

"Excuse me? They look fine. The recipe said to cut them in slices, so I did."

"Those are chunks."

"Like it matters," she mumbled, rolling her eyes to herself, but when he slowly came over, she warily took a step back until the counter began pressing uncomfortably into her back. Instantly, the smile got wiped off his face as he stopped in his tracks.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Bonnie."

"It's… it's not that. I mean, it is. But… come on, can you blame me? You tried to steal from me before, so I don't know what else you could be capable of…"

His eyes shuttered closed as he nodded.

"Maybe I should leave after all. I'll come check on you to make sure you're alright and didn't get the virus, and if you need anything -"

"What?! The first sign of trouble and you want to run?" She made a face, wiping her hands in her apron before she walked closer to him, forgetting caution.

"Bonnie…" He tilted his head, watching her every move, backing away a bit until he was back in the doorway.

"Can you blame me for being cautious?"

"No. I didn't-"

She raised a hand, shaking a finger at him.

"Uh uh. I'm not done yet, Mister. - It's only been what, half a day? So excuse me if I'm still a bit agitated and shaken! Excuse me that I'm wary around you. I mean, you could be a rapist or a murderer too for all I know… I don't even know your last name. Maybe Enzo isn't even your real name either. But you know mine and you're in my place, and… I'm just a little nervous, okay?"

It was awfully quiet for a long time, both of them just staring at the other, until Bonnie dug her fingers into the corners of her eyes, feeling a headache coming on.

"Ow. Ugh, I'm an idiot," she blurted when her eyes began tearing up like crazy almost instantly, and she cursed, "Stupid onions!"

"Are you alright, love?"

His hand came up to touch her, cup her chin, and gently - oh so achingly gently - he turned her face until he could see her watery eyes. Blinking, she tried to clear her vision.

"The last thing I chopped," she explained, allowing the gesture, the way he scrutinized her. "Should have washed my damn hands. You'd think after everything with the stupid virus, I'd have remembered to do that. But no, Bonnie Bennett is an idiot."

"Let's rinse your eyes."

She half-slapped his arm away, immediately growing calmer when she saw his concerned face - or, the idea of it. Her eyes were burning like crazy, her vision mostly blurry.

"I got it."

"You can barely see. Let me at least guide you over to the sink so you don't crush into anything."

Looking up, she huffed, then allowed him to take her by the arm anyways.

"Thank you," she grumbled out, waiting as he turned the water on. The burn was awful. Raising a hand, she wanted to rub her eyes again, but he grabbed her just in time, shaking his head.

"You're only gonna make it worse. - Tilt your head back a little."

"I got it."

"Tilt your head back. Come on, don't be so stubborn."

"Ow. Ugh, okay…"

She did as she was told, feeling his hand come up to hold her neck, making it a little more comfortable for her. Then she waited.

"This will help. Careful, it'll be cold."

With that, he slowly began pouring some water over her eyes, and she blinked.

"Try to keep them open."

"Easier said than done."

"I know."

She blinked again, and again, but soon, she could feel the cool water do the trick, and when he eventually lifted his hand to help her raise her head again, her vision had cleared, her eyes a lot better. Only a bit of a sting was left, but nothing she hadn't felt before.

"Thank you."

His smile was a bit… off, and it took her a moment to make the connection as to why. He had held her with one hand, but he had needed another one to pour the water…

The way he was holding his injured arm, and the ashen hue that had crept back into his features confirmed her suspicion.

"You: couch. Now."

"I told you, I'm…"

"'Better now?' Yeah, no. That was before you used your injured arm to help me. Come on." She grabbed his good arm resolutely, tugging at it to make him follow. "I can't believe I just made you do that, because I'm too stupid to wash my hands. I never forget to wash my hands."

"You're cute when you're annoyed, Bonnie Bennett."

Shooting him a sideways glare, she scoffed.

"I'm not cute, Mr. Enzo whatever-the-hell-your-last-name-is."

"St. John. - And yes, you are…"

…

And just like that, the days suddenly seemed to go by much quicker.

After months of doing whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, Bonnie had to get used to having company again.

Company… Even the word sounded strange.

"Good morning, love. I hope you don't mind, I made us some French toast."

"Really."

Rubbing her eyes as she walked into the kitchen at 8:30 in the morning, she was more than a little surprised to see her thief plating food, a smile on his face as he glanced over at her. Suddenly self-conscious upon realizing she was only wearing her fluffy flannel pajama bottoms and a too flimsy old torn t-shirt (and no bra! Oh gosh…),, she crossed her arms over her chest, grinning awkwardly at him.

"What are you doing up? You're supposed to be resting."

"Bonnie, I've gotten more rest in the last four days than I've gotten the last bloody half-year. Let me do this, alright? Then I promise I'll be good and lay down on the couch again after breakfast."

Tilting her head, she fought with herself. Part of her wanted to be annoyed. She had made it clear. The rules were for him to listen to her, to take it super easy, and then - as soon as he was all healed up and neither of them showing signs of the virus - he'd go on his way again. And he wasn't adhering to the "rest" at all.

But.

French toast… And it smelled oh-so-delicious. She hadn't had a breakfast like that since they had first closed the restaurants.

"Sit, love."

"French toast, huh?"

"Indeed. I hope you like French toast. I can make you an omelette if you prefer…"

Chuckling, she sat down, marveling at the fact that he had even set the table.

"French toast is perfect," she said, smiling as he sat down next to her. "I didn't know you could cook."

He gave a nonchalant shrug.

"I didn't know you liked rock."

"What?"

Pointing to her torn shirt, he winked. Nick Cave it said on there, from a concert she had been to ages before, in another life.

"Oh," she made. "What's so surprising about that?"

"I don't know. I had pegged you for an R'nB girl, going by that CD collection you have hidden under the couch. - Also, who even still has CDs?…"

Blushing, she looked down on her plate, stifling an embarrassed cough.

"They're… they're memories. Don't judge me!"

"I would never."

His smirk said otherwise, but for some reason, she didn't mind. Breaking into a chuckle, she took her fork and finally dug into her toast.

"Can we just pretend you didn't find those CDs? Yeah? And eat? This looks and smells too amazing."

"Absolutely. Bon Appetit, Bonnie Bennett."

Grinning a bit shily, she looked at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he smiled back at her.

It was strange, really, how quickly things had begun to change between them. How quickly her life had begun to change.

Just days ago, she had been in a rut, her life consisting of online classes, and bingeing too many shows, and being so tired of screen-time that she hadn't even chatted with her friends enough anymore. She had been starved for sun and good weather and a freaking social life, but all her encounters had been brief ones with a shop clerk or a stranger crossing the street when she got too close.

And now? Now here she was, not a foot away from this stranger, this thief she had rescued, and suddenly, her life didn't feel so dull anymore.

Suddenly, there was good food again, and real conversations, and someone else's presence close to her, and it felt… amazing.

"This is so good," she said around a too big bite of toast, and she almost spilled some of it, making him laugh in a way she hadn't heard him laugh before. The sound made her heart skip a couple of beats as she looked at him, mesmerized.

"I'm glad you like it. Maybe I can make breakfast again sometime?"

"Hell, you can make lunch and dinner and everything from now on, Enzo St. John. This is amazing," it escaped her, and he smiled that smile of his before looking down, leaving her feeling all weird and warm and fuzzy. (She was just so starved for any kind of company, right? It had nothing to do with him per se. - Psh. Who was she kidding…)

When she looked up again, his expression had changed, a seriousness lodging there now that made a lump appear in her throat.

"Thanks for giving me another chance, Bonnie Bennett," he then said. "You're the first one to do that, and I intend to show you I was worth it."

She swallowed, her hand coming up to touch his cheek as if of its own accord. Maybe it was a too intimate gesture and too early, but she couldn't help it, didn't care.

"You already did," she then muttered, smiling at him wistfully. "You are worth it. And I'm glad you are beginning to see that too…"

For a while, neither of them said anything.

"Hey." Bonnie's hand was still on his cheek, as if forgotten. "I'm also glad you are here. With me…"

"Yeah? Even though I stole from you?"

She chuckled, nodding.

"Yes. - But you can still make me French toast again."

And finally, his smile was back too.

"Anything for you, love."